


Love Sees (Not With the Eyes)

by grelleswife



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bard knows when he has a good woman and needs to run after her, F/M, Fluff, Grelle is a lady worth chasing, Hide and Seek, Invisibility, Trans Female Character, female pronouns for Grelle, hiding behind curtains, love doesn't just see with the eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 01:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20498576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grelleswife/pseuds/grelleswife
Summary: Grelle swings by the Phantomhive manor to pay her dearest Bard a visit. If the cook wants Grelle to lift her glamour of invisibility, though, he'll have to catch her first. The chase is on!





	Love Sees (Not With the Eyes)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fishpaste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishpaste/gifts).

> This is a birthday gift for a dear fren in the Grelle fandom. Wishing you a beautiful day, love! <3
> 
> The title is based on a line from Act 1, scene 1 of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream: 
> 
> "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind"

Despite the bleak, rainy weather that turned the ground into a soggy mush beneath her high heels, Grelle’s heart was light. She cheerfully skipped through the grounds of the Phantomhive estate, bypassing the cumbersome main entrance with a quick “leap” from exterior to the much dryer and more welcoming interior. She was on her lunch break (a lady deserved to rest and recharge from the grueling workday) and it was high time she paid her man a visit. Given the hour, Bard would probably be toiling away in the kitchen. Grelle fervently hoped he hadn’t set luncheon ablaze. She didn’t like the thought of Bassy chastising her darling _at all_.

Due to her stint as Madame Red’s butler, she (mostly) remembered her way around the place. A few wrong turns notwithstanding, Grelle wended her way to the kitchen, grinning like a small child when she heard Bardroy singing a slightly off-key rendition of a marching song. As the reaper put her hand on the doorknob, she paused. Her original plan had been to appear before Bard and surprise him, but what if they played a little game first? In her current state, she was invisible to mortal eyes. Might as well make use of that. Men loved to be teased, and she doubted that her favorite cook was an exception. Stealthily opening the door, she crept towards the unsuspecting blond. Fortunate indeed that his rattling about in the kitchen drowned out the _click, clack_ of her heels!

Bard’s mind was occupied with slicing carrots—try as he might, he just couldn’t seem to get the blasted things all neat and perfect-looking the way Mr. Sebastian could. For that reason, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a pair of vicelike arms encircled his waist. Bard’s half-finished cigarette fell to the ground as he choked out a startled, “What the ‘ell?!” and tightened his grip on the knife. Had an attacker broken into the manor? When you were a servant of the Queen’s Watchdog, danger lurked around every corner. His muscles tensed, and he raised the knife threateningly.

“Helloooo, honey,” a voice crooned in his ear, staying his hand.

“Grelle!” Bard gasped. “Ye gave me a right turn, miss!” He craned his neck over his shoulder, but blinked confusedly when he saw nothing whatsoever. Was he going barmy? But he was definitely being hugged, and that instantly recognizable voice had been clear as a bell.

“Oh, I’m in hiding,” she tittered, and he blushed when those irresistible lips brushed against his stubble. “You know how we can trick prying human eyes when we’re on the job.” Grim reapers cloaked themselves in invisibility when the need arose, only revealing themselves when they wished to. “Technically I’m still on duty, but I was _dying_ to see you, darling.”

“I’m glad ye stopped by, doll, but I’d like to actu’lly _see_ my gal,” Bard laughed, reaching behind himself and smiling as his fingers met thick, soft hair.

“Oh, that’s the thing. I’ll let you take a peek on one teensy little condition—you have to catch me first.” The arms abruptly freed him, and clever fingers darted into his pocket. Bard spun around and was confronted with a gloved, disembodied hand that clutched the pack of trusty cigarettes he always made sure to have nearby. “I’m sure that _my_ beautiful face is reward enough, but it never hurts to have insurance.”

“Oi!” he cried in outrage, swiping at the purloined package, but Grelle’s hand vanished. He heard a _thunk_ and felt a whoosh of air as she leapt away.

“Happy hunting, my dearest Bard!” she crowed, footsteps rapidly receding as she raced away.

“Cor, Grelle,” Bard groaned, rubbing the side of his face aggrievedly. Mister Sebastian would wring his neck if he caught Bard abandoning his post. Still, he couldn’t help but be tickled pink at the situation. Fancy a pretty lady wanting a servant like him to run after her!

He bounded off in pursuit of the reaper. At first, he was hot on her tail, following the sound of those high heels through the manor’s halls with relative ease. All of a sudden, her footfalls ceased. Bard batted at the air in front of him in confusion, grasping at nothing. Then, as he heard a faint giggle, he realized what must have happened.

“Took off yer shoes, ye did…yer a sharp one, Miss Grelle,” he muttered, scratching his chin thoughtfully. However, a good soldier didn’t give up without a fight. When your opponent used unconventional tactics, you thought outside the box. While Bard was more familiar than he’d ever wished to be with the perils of battle, he was equally accustomed to more subtle dangers, the cunning traps and diversions that spelled doom for the unwary. How could he see someone who was invisible? By using all his senses, not just the eyes, and by keeping a lookout for subtle clues of the reaper’s presence. Grelle was a goddess, not a ghost, and she was bound to leave traces behind.

Barely discernible indents on the carpet where Grelle had tread. A chair that been dislodged slightly from its customary position. Most telling of all, strands of red, red hair. Bard chuckled to himself as he picked one up. “Like Hansel an’ Gretel’s breadcrumbs.” No matter how much she brushed and combed her locks, Grelle had a tendency to shed. When weeks went by without Bard being able to see her, he could still find her hair strewn about his bedroom. “Little mementos to ensure you won’t forget me,” Grelle would quip.

Bard eventually tracked his quarry to a small guest bedroom with a window looking out onto the estate, though the curtains were drawn due to its being unoccupied. It was hard to tell with the overcast sky blocking the sunlight, but he thought there was a shadow behind one of the curtains. Huh. _There ye are_.

He wanted to make a dash towards her straight away. Being much stronger and faster, though, Grelle could probably give him the slip if she knew he was coming. Bard crossed his burly arms. He could be sneaky, too. Turning his back to the window, he loudly questioned the air, “Where the deuce could she be? Coulda swore I had ‘er for a minute.” He closed his eyes and listened. Maybe he was imagining things, but—no, there it was. The telltale sound of breathing. In. Out. Bard casually took a couple steps backwards. “Really is a damn shame,” he stepped back again, “coz I was lookin’ forward to seein’ my girl.” Pivoting, he lunged forward, throwing aside the curtain to reveal the lady herself. She smiled, and he felt his heart beat faster. “Looks like I found yer, Miss Grelle,” he grinned.

“Goodness, me, I’ve been beaten! I sup_pose_ I should give you a reward, darling.” Taking Bard by the shoulders, she reached down and kissed him. Bard eagerly moved closer. Lord, the things that tongue of hers could do!

Hesitantly, he placed his hands at her sides, fingers shyly reaching beneath the hem of her shirt to touch the goddess’s satin-smooth skin. “Mmn, good,” she moaned, toying with his bottom lip, and Bard felt incredibly warm, as though turned to melted toffee.

“I missed ye,” he whispered gruffly.

“It’s been far too long, love,” she replied, underlining the statement with another, still more ardent kiss.

Of course, Grelle had let him win. The dead had no need for air, and she could easily have stopped breathing until he left the room. But Bard had relentlessly chased her round and about the manor. It had been all she could do to avoid squealing in delight. How romantic! Even when she’d made things difficult, he hadn’t given up. Her lashes fluttered, and she lost herself in their kiss.

Bard saw her with more than his eyes, and she wasn’t about to let a man like that go.


End file.
